


Apology Boy

by orphan_account



Category: Breaking Bad RPF
Genre: Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 20:00:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/969709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short crack/fluff RPF, imagined somewhere after the desert scene in "Confessions".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apology Boy

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry. In advance. 
> 
> I just needed some snuggles after the heart-attacks of the last few weeks. Please forgive me.
> 
> Disclaimer: These are real people, and I totally adore both of them. I (clearly) don't know them at all, or I wouldn't be playing around like this. Obviously a fictional work, and meant only as a sort of therapy from the omg!Painverse of what their characters are putting everyone through.
> 
> Again: please forgive me.

* * *

_I can’t hug him back.  I cannot hug him back_.  The temptation to give in to the embrace, to forgive Walter his manipulations and move on – to let myself be _worked_ – could be resisted, as long as I don’t hug back him back.  I can even resist his hand cupping the back of my head (but I don’t _want_ to - so comforting, so _right_ ). 

_Jesus.  Call the fucking scene already before I break character._

“And, SCENE!  Great job, you guys!”  Bryan’s arms loosened just enough to allow me to disentangle my own, and the hand that had been cradling my head dropped to my shoulder.  Overwhelmed with emotion, I hugged him back quickly, leaning on him a bit as I tried to compose myself.  “That’s a day!” Michael shouted, and there was a quick burst of applause as our crew cheered another day’s work.

“Taking off, Bob?” I heard Bryan ask.  Turning, I saw him shrugging out of Saul’s overcoat before handing it to one of the wardrobe interns.  Bob waggled his eyebrows, and the intern blushed. 

“Yeah, Bonnie here,” he gestured with his head as he loosened his tie, “invited me to karaoke, if you can believe it.  I think she might have a thing for actors.”  Bonnie turned even more red, and grabbed the loose tie from around his neck with a little more force than necessary.  Bob grinned lasciviously, and made to grab her as she gave a little squeal and ran away.  “I gotta go, fellas.  Have a great evening!”

Bryan laughed, his chest vibrating against my shoulder.  “See you tomorrow, Bob.”  I waved with my free hand, but he was already gone, chasing after the young intern.   

Most of the crew were busy tearing down equipment and moving set pieces, and Bryan turned to face me, putting his hands on my shoulders.  The weight was comforting, and he leaned his head in to rest his forehead against mine.  “You okay?  It seemed like that was really tough for you.”  He pulled back, hastily revising, “Not that you didn’t do an amazing job.  I mean, my God, you were fantastic, Aaron.  I just mean that it seemed to really resonate with you.”

I cracked a smile.  “Maybe I’m just more method than you.”  Joking was good.  Joking redirected the emotions, so maybe I could make it back to my trailer without crying.

“Smart ass,” he retorted with a smile.  “Let’s get you out of here,” he whispered conspiratorially, slinging an arm around my shoulders again and leading me away from the set.

A short walk later, we were standing at the door to Bryan’s trailer.  He paused, and gave me a crooked grin.  “Step into my parlor?”

“I’d love to,” I replied.  He pushed open the door and gestured dramatically inside the trailer.

“After you, Mr. Paul.”

I barely gave the door time to shut behind us before I jumped him.  The short distance between us was just suddenly too much, my shoulders felt cold and bereft from the absence of his arm, and I just launched myself at him: wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling his lips down to meet mine.  He let me take the lead, pushing my tongue in his mouth, nipping at his lips, rubbing my hands over his bare scalp.

“God, I am gonna miss this,” I muttered against his neck.  “Mention lately how much I like you hairless?”  I felt his answering grin against my own throat, where he was kissing a path down to my collarbone. 

“Once or twice,” Bryan answered between pecks.  “Clothes,” he said after a minute.  “You’re wearing too many.”  I hummed in agreement, and busied my fingers with his shirt, careful not to damage it, lest Wardrobe have a fit.  He moved back enough to slip my t-shirt up over my head, and put his hands on my hips to pull me close again.  Very close, canting his hips forward slightly to press against me.  I made short work of his belt and slacks, before smirking downward at his underwear.

“Just an aside?  Totally not going to miss these.  At all.” I said, making a face.  Bryan just gave me A Look.  “What?  Getting too old to appreciate my sense of humor?” I joked, reaching out to slide down the briefs.

The noise he made in response was a cross between a laugh and a growl.  “Yeah, yeah, I’ll show you old.”  He had the rest of my clothes off a second later, and pushed me back in the direction of the bed.  I fell on the bedspread, reaching out for him to come and join me.

Bryan smiled appreciatively as he paused and looked me over.  “God, you are… you are just spectacular,” he said before lying down next to me, sliding a leg between my own and meeting my lips with his again.  I bucked my hips into him, seeking some friction against my straining cock, and he pulled back to look at me.

“You poor thing,” he said, sympathetically.  Despite my arousal, I felt tears prick at my eyes again, and ducked my head into his shoulder.  He rolled us so that he was on top, looking down at me.  “It’s okay.  It’s just a character.  A façade.  I love _you_.”  He lifted a finger to bop the tip of my nose gently.  “Even when this is so hard for you after a rough scene.”

I smiled back, tossing my head quickly to nip at his fingertip.  Bryan smiled wider, and ducked to peck me on the lips.  “That’s my Aaron.”  Emotional mini-crisis forgotten, I lifted my hips to try to indicate my interest, and he grinned appreciatively.  “There we go.”

I moaned in response, trying again, but he lifted away from me.  “Let me take care of you,” he murmured, dropping a last deep, tender kiss against my mouth before kissing his way down my neck and chest.

My hand found the back of his head, resting there as he worked down my chest and abdomen, kissing and licking, bracing himself with one hand while he slid the palm of his other hand over my skin.  I closed my eyes, moaning again, as that roaming hand circled my cock and stroked smoothly up and down.  Down to the base, and then up; his thumb swiping gently over the tip before he moved downward again.

By the time his mouth closed around me, I was nearly there.  A few skilled bobs of his head and sweeps of his tongue, and I was crying out.  His hand continued to pet me - gentling, soothing - as I came.  My arms and legs went boneless as Bryan slid back up the bed and encircled me in his arms, grabbing the overhanging edge of the blanket and folding it up over us.

“God.  I’m like some love-struck teenager with you,” I muttered when I could talk again.  Bryan chuckled.

“ _Only_ with me, I would hope.”

“Oh yeah.”  I pulled back so I could see him, and he smiled down at me indulgently.  “I’m sorry for…”  Unable to complete the sentence, I waved my hand vaguely.  He trapped it with his own and pulled the blanket back up around us.

“Don’t be sorry,” Bryan chided, resting his chin on top of my head.  “It’s meant to be emotional.  It’s supposed to resonate.”

I sighed, nodding against him.  Snuggled up beside him, all warm and comforting, it was easy to accept the gentle remonstration.  “I guess I really am just that much more method than you,” I couldn’t help but tease, insinuating one ankle between his calves.

“Keep it up,” he cautioned.  “I’ve been looking for a good excuse to take you over my knee again.”

“Mmm,” I replied.  “Do I get to call you Mr. White?”

* * *

 


End file.
